


To Have a Home

by EmSteele1234



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, But isn't that always the case, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Good Severus Snape, Harry cries about Cedric's death, Harry is betrayed by everyone, I don't even know how to properly tag this, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, OOC Severus - Freeform, Physical Abuse, Self-Harm, Severus Snape Adopts Harry Potter, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, The Dursley's are garbage fires, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2020-07-09 01:27:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19879324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmSteele1234/pseuds/EmSteele1234
Summary: Harry James Potter is 15 years old and has endured more tragedy than most Wizards in their 70's. It seems inevitable that the Gryffindor would one day snap. Will one man be able to save the Boy Who Lived before it's too late? Will Harry ever know what it is like to live in a loving home, a place where he's wanted? (Trigger Warning: Suicidal thoughts/Actions, mentions of Self Harm, mentions of abuse)"I used to dream about itbut never schemed or countedon fantasies or wishes-it breaks a man to see what he missesSo many nights I'd prayfor a better life, a better daybut I never thought that it'd come truenow that it's here, I don't know what to doand I'm trying not to cryThis must be how it feelsto have a home"-Excerpt from To Have a Home, by Darren Criss-





	1. A Bitter End

_Broken...  
_

_Trapped..._

_Tired..._

Harry James Potter sat in the darkness of his bedroom at Number 4 Privet Drive, contemplating how his life had gone so wrong. It seemed as if he attracted danger. After fighting Quirrel over the Sorcerer’s Stone, opening the Chamber of Secrets, dealing with the hysteria of Sirius Black’s escape from Azkaban, and being forced into the Tri-Wizard Tournament before witnessing a student’s death and facing off with Voldemort, it’s no wonder Harry felt that he was a walking death magnet. Quite a few of his friends had stopped talking to him after the Tri-Wizard Tournament had concluded, due to rumors that he was the one who had murdered Cedric. His two best friends, Ron and Hermione had neglected to write to him over the entirety of the summer holidays. By the looks they had given him as they boarded the train ride back to Kings Cross Station, and the fact that they did not sit with him on the journey, Harry realized that the two had believed the gossip that had been spreading like wildfire. All of the Weasleys had given Harry the cold shoulder as they got onto the train, which gave Harry a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Harry never looked forward to coming back to Surrey, because it meant an entire summer filled with physical, emotional, and verbal abuse from the Dursleys. Of course, Harry couldn’t blame them. They were forced to take him in when his parents had been killed by Voldemort. From a very young age, Harry knew he wasn’t wanted. Sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs and serving the three other occupants of the home like a house elf was the only life Harry had ever known before he turned 11. The boy would sometimes catch himself thinking about what would have happened if he had died that Halloween night along with his parents. He wouldn’t have been the Boy-Who-Lived, the martyr of the wizarding world. He wouldn’t have been Dumbledore’s little “golden child” and the key to fulfilling the damn prophecy. He would have been just another name on the long list of witches and wizards killed by the most evil wizard of all time. After more than a decade of abuse from the Dursleys, Harry was slowly beginning to unravel, and more often than not, wished that he had died that night. If he had, he never would have been forced to live where he wasn’t wanted. Death was starting to sound preferrable to his hell hole of a life.

In two days time, Harry would have to get on the Hogwarts Express and go to the place that he once thought of as his only home. He knew he couldn’t face the accusing glares of the other students, especially Ron and Hermione. He remembered how he had practically begged Dumbledore to let him stay at Hogwarts over the summer in his first year. He also remembered how the old headmaster had tried to explain that he was safest in Surrey due to the blood wards bound by love from a family member. The young boy had silently questioned how blood wards could keep himself safe when there was no love for him within the walls of Number 4 Privet Drive. After two consecutive years of begging, Harry had given up hope. He would have taken anything over the Dursleys; he would have even preferred staying with Snape. However, he was dismissed every time.

Bringing himself back to the present, Harry looked down at his hands, his fingers running over the shiny object that he held. He had managed to swipe one of Vernon’s guns from his closet when he was forced to clean the house, which included Vernon and Petunia’s bedroom. He glanced towards the empty cage that sat in the corner of the room, and then at the open window. Harry had written a myriad of final goodbye letters to everyone who he felt necessary. First, he wrote to Dumbledore and Mcgonagall, explaining how he couldn’t bear the weight placed upon him from being the Boy-Who-Lived, and how he could not take any more of the abuse he had suffered since he was 2 years old. He wrote one letter to Ron and Hermione, who he knew would be spending their summer holidays together at the burrow. He thanked them for their friendship, even though it was short-lived. He told them that they were his very first friends, and that he doesn’t blame them for siding with everyone else when he needed them the most.

He wrote a letter to Sirius and Remus, apologizing for what he was going to do. A large portion of the letter was informing Sirius and Remus that they were to get everything that was kept within the Potter Vault. Harry confided that he will be happy after he is gone, and that he will finally get to be with his parents who had sacrificed themselves for him so long ago. A letter was sent to Malfoy, dictating that the Gryffindor regretted not accepting his friendship invitation back in first year. Lastly, he wrote a letter to Snape. The young teen had used 3 feet of parchment for the final letter. He had so much he wanted to convey to the man who had made his life difficult while attending Hogwarts. He expressed how the dark potions master never saw the real Harry, and how looks can be deceiving, which Snape would understand well, considering his role in the Order. The raven haired boy finished every letter the same:

_“I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough for both the Wizarding World and the Muggle World. I never knew what it was like to have a true home and family, as it was ripped away from me at 15 months old. I thought I found that at Hogwarts, but I guess I was wrong. I am just so tired. Tired of the rumors, tired of the lies, tired of living. By the time you read this, I shall be with my parents. Farewell._

_Sincerely, The Boy-Who-Didn’t-Live,_   
_Harry James Potter”_

After sending out the last of the letters via Hedwig, Harry sat frozen on his bed, tears streaming down his bruised face. This was it, the end of the famous Harry Potter. He ran his fingers over the array of raised scars that criss-crossed his forearms. Shaking his head, he placed the gun to his temple. A moment of hesitation passed over the boy. His ears were ringing with anxiety. It was in that moment that he heard a pop and his eyes darted to the source of the noise. There in the light of the moon coming through the window, was Snape with a peculiar look on his face; one of concern and fear. It was an expression that appeared foreign on the dour potions master. The man’s wand was at the ready and Harry backed against the wall, the gun still pressed to his head.

“Get out.” He said, his voice void of any emotion. He spoke in a monotone whisper that was reminiscent of a robot as he slid down the wall, his knees tucked to his chest.

“Pot- Harry,” Snape started, as he raised his hands in a placating manner. “It does not have to end like this.” He slowly inched closer to the trembling teen, his dark eyes locked on the boy who’s life was on the line.

“You of all people should be happy about this!” Harry shouted, not caring if he woke the Dursleys.

Snape sighed and stepped towards his student, before stopping and getting on his knees to get down on Harry’s level. “I know it may be hard to believe, but I do care about you, Harry.” He began, intentionally using Harry’s first name. “I know what it is like to be in your position. Feeling like you have no one to turn to in your hour of need.” He paused, trying to keep his composure. “I read your letter. It is true, I was never able to see the real Harry, and I would very much like to. I let my past feelings for your father blind me, and for that I am truly sorry.”

Harry stopped for a moment and pondered Snape’s words. _Snape has been in this position before? He’s apologizing?_ His mind questioned. Snape knew that Harry’s mind was running a mile a minute. He kept his eyes on the boy, anticipating his next move. He noticed that the hand holding the gun was trembling, as was the rest of the broken boy that sat in front of him. His keen eyes observed the scars that marred his much too pale and thin arms, and the dark circles under green eyes that had once been so full of life, but were now dull and glazed with unshed tears. The eyes that stared back at him were the constant reminder of lost love. Every time Severus looked into the emerald orbs he was transported back to a time when he was under no stress, when he was happy and had his best friend by his side, the two of them against the world. However, his world had come crashing down around him in his 5th year of Hogwarts, much like Harry’s was now. The man sympathized with the boy, knowing excruciatingly well what it was like to lose the people you loved unconditionally to something out of your control.

The click of the safety switch brought Severus out of his flashback and back to the task at hand.

“I’m sorry Professor.” Harry muttered softly. “I can’t take it anymore. Goodbye.”

A flick of his wand quickly removed the gun from Harry’s hand mere milliseconds before the boy had pulled the trigger. Anticipating what was coming next, Snape prepared himself for the shift in emotion that was bound to come, and just as he suspected, Harry clenched his fists and ran at the man in a rage.

“How dare you?” He screamed, pounding against his Professor’s chest as his emotions poured out in waves of rage and despair. “I want to die! Why can’t you just let me die?” The last sentence was whispered as Harry started to collapse into the waiting arms of the dark man.

Sinking to the floor, Severus held the shivering boy as the adrenaline began to fade. Harry let out a gut-wrenching sob and emitted a yell that would have made even the most hardened Death Eater take a step back.

“It is alright to cry, Harry. I will be here for as long as you need and want me to be.” He spoke softly to the teen, while whispering reassurances as Harry continued to sob into his robes. They stayed in this position for quite a while before Severus heard Harry spoke in a voice so soft, he had to strain to discern what he was saying.

“I’m tired… so very tired of it all…” Harry confessed.

“I know, child, I know.” Severus nodded, noticing how desperate Harry’s hold on him was. “I promise on my magic that I will get you away from here. Where are your belongings?” He asked, noticing the barren room for the first time.

“Cupboard… under the stairs… my old ‘bedroom’...” Harry whispered. Severus saw red for a moment but swallowed down his emotion, as it would do Harry no good to lose control of the situation.

“Come with me. We shall retrieve your possessions and then use my emergency portkey to Hogwarts.” The man informed.

Keeping physical contact with the boy, the two wizards descended the stairs silently. Once on the first floor, Severus whispered an Alohamora and then a Lumos. His breath caught in his throat when he shined the light into the small, cramped cupboard. A tattered blue baby blanket with the initials ‘HJP’ lay in a small pile on the edge of an old baby mattress. A crumpled piece of ripped paper had been taped to the wall, with “Harry’s room” scrawled in crayon in a child’s handwriting. What caught Severus’s attention was the faint blood stains on the mattress and blanket. Freezing for a moment before remembering what he was doing, Severus grabbed the trunk from the cupboard, quickly shutting the door and locking it once again. All the while he kept a hand on his student’s shoulder, to reassure him that everything was going to be okay. Rummaging through his pocket, he found his emergency portkey and looked at Harry, who now appeared exhausted in every sense of the word.

“Hold on tightly to me.” Severus whispered as he held out the portkey for Harry to touch. The boy took one last look around at the house that caused him so much pain, letting a stray tear escape his eye and travel down his cheek. They placed their hands on the portkey simultaneously and left Number 4 Privet Drive. Harry didn’t look back.


	2. A Different Perspective

**Chapter 2**

_Previously in To Have A Home: “Hold on tightly to me.” Severus whispered as he held out the portkey for Harry to touch. The boy took one last look around at the house that caused him so much pain, letting a stray tear escape his eye and travel down his cheek. They placed their hands on the portkey simultaneously and left Number 4 Privet Drive. Harry didn’t look back._

* * *

A pulling sensation followed by seemingly endless spinning put Harry further into shock. The last time he had traveled via portkey was at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and he was subsequently bombarded by memories of that horrific night as the pair landed directly outside the gates of Hogwarts. Harry fell to his knees and tried to catch his breath as his entire body shook. 

A gentle hand placed on trembling shoulders went unnoticed as the frail boy struggled to take in the oxygen he so desperately needed. Finally, Harry let his head hang down while he took a few ragged breaths. The potions master crouched beside the young Gryffindor and kept his hand in the exact spot he had placed it moments before. His voice was low as he spoke in his student’s ear.

  
  
“I am sorry Harry, the portkey was the most efficient method of travel. The Knight Bus would have been too much of a hassle, and would have taken much longer.” The man explained softly.

  
  
Severus watched as Harry took a few more shuddering breaths, before all of his mental and physical energy ran out completely, leaving the boy to sag on the ground in a heap. He picked the much too light boy up off of the ground and carried him through the gates and up to the castle. It was alarming how easy it was to carry the raven haired teen, and he could practically feel the boy’s spine and ribs through his thin, oversized shirt. A red haze once again bordered Severus’s vision like a picture frame, but he continuously reminded himself that Harry needed him to remain calm. 

The man chanced a look at his student as he trudged up to the school. The adolescent in his arms had a pained expression even while unconscious. Tear tracks stained his face and Snape took note of a few old and recent bruises that marred Harry’s neck and cheek. The lightning scar still stood out prominently on the teen’s face, a reminder of the first tragedy that befell the poor child. Severus remembered clearly the moment he had received the news that the Potters had perished at the hands of Voldemort, leaving little Harry amongst the devastating carnage. He remembered looking up at the sky and cursing every god and deity in existence, wanting nothing more than to join Lily in the afterlife. It was his unrequited love for Lily Potter, and his mutual hatred of James Potter that had fueled his initial resentment towards the Potter spawn. 

He recalled spotting Harry for the first time in the great hall, and immediately loathing the fact that he looked like a carbon copy of the man that once tormented him, except for the eyes. The eyes that were so brilliantly emerald; the eyes that held the life and essence of a woman that was ripped away from both the child that possessed them, and the man that stared into the inquisitive orbs. Every time he watched the boy walk through his classroom door, or saw him walking through the halls while seemingly attached at the hip to Miss Granger and the youngest male Weasley, the Potions Master was plagued by strong feelings of enmity and disinclination for the boy. Severus Snape had always assumed that Harry had been doted on by his relatives; that the boy was living a comfortable life, being brought up to be a pompous brat much like his father. However, Severus realized that he had misjudged the teen solely based on his lineage. _  
_

Walking through the front doors of the castle, Severus wasted no time in making his way to the hospital wing. He knew that Poppy would be present, organizing her shelves full of potions and salves that he had brewed specifically for her use. Despite the time, Severus did not bother knocking as he entered the room with Harry laying limp in his arms. The Hogwarts matron turned around to the sight of Severus depositing the teen onto the closest bed.

  
  
“Severus! What in Merlin’s name are you doing here at this hour? And with Mr. Potter?” The nurse questioned while retrieving some potions from a nearby shelf.

  
  
“Harry,” the professor started, but found his voice suddenly halt in his throat, blocked by the emotion that threatened to come out. “Harry attempted suicide just a short while ago. His relatives have been abusing him for who knows how long, and he fell unconscious after we used my emergency portkey to Hogwarts.” He informed.

  
  
Madame Pomfrey listened with rapt attention, her eyes widening as Severus explained what had happened. Her eyes drifted to Harry, who lay on the bed, as pale as the sheets he had been placed upon. The woman waved her wand, casting a range of diagnostic spells, and waiting for the wand to produce the results. A few moments later, a sheet of parchment, about as long as a toddler's toy broom, materialized from her wand. Madame Pomfrey scanned the list of past and present injuries and other ailments, her blood boiling as the reality set in of just how much pain the young Gryffindor had endured over the years.

  
The MediWitch handed the parchment over to Severus with a sad expression, and the man began to read.

  
  
**Patient:** _Harry James Potter_  
 **Age:** _14_  
 **Place of Residence:** _Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey_  
  


**Ailments**

_Magic levels severely drained_

_Malnourishment_

_Low Blood Sugar_

_Anemia_

_Cuts and Lacerations (Severe Scarring) - Back_

_Cuts and Lacerations - Forearms/Upper Thighs (Self Inflicted)_

_Scratches - Forearms/Upper Thighs (Self Inflicted)_

_Substantial Bruising - Head/Neck/Back/Legs/Arms/Abdomen_

_Broken Ribs - 2 Right Side/1 Left Side_

_Improperly Healed Fractures - Right Arm/Left Ankle_

_2nd Degree Burns - Both Palms_

_Concussion (Mild)_

_Previous Concussion (Moderate)_

_Stomach Ulcer (Stress Induced)_

**Conclusion:** _Patient requires medical attention to treat physical trauma. There is no evidence of sexual abuse. Due to self-inflicted wounds, it is suggested that the patient undergo mind healer sessions. Patient must remain in bed for at least 72 hours, and may only consume soft foods. Supervision is recommended for at least 24 hours._

_  
__  
_To say that Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape were livid would be a vast understatement. Both adults were nearly seething with rage at the results of the diagnostic spell. Two pairs of eyes fell on the boy who had gone through so much while almost everyone in the Wizarding World turned their backs. Madame Pomfrey gently tipped the teen’s head back and slowly poured the first of many potions into his mouth, making sure he safely swallowed the liquid. A few moments passed before any visible changes occurred. Harry’s cheeks regained a bit of color, so they were no longer as white as his beloved owl, and his previously irregular breathing evened out into a normal pattern. The Hogwarts matron administered another potion, this time a calming drought, which caused the tension lines on the boy’s face to disappear. The final potion was a dreamless sleep, to prevent the nightmares that were surely to come after tonight’s events.

Severus repositioned the blanket so that the Gryffindor was fully covered, before pulling up a chair, taking vigil next to the poor boy who had nearly left this world mere hours ago. The moonlight that shone through the windows of the hospital wing cast a glow upon Harry’s face. The potions professor reached over and gently took Harry’s glasses off before placing them on the bedside table. Settling back into his chair, Severus noticed that without the glasses, Harry looked slightly less like his blasted father, and bared a bit more of a resemblance to his mother, Lily. To Severus, she was the one who got away. Their relationship had been damaged beyond repair during their fifth year of Hogwarts, and the ginger had fallen for James. 

James Potter and his rag-tag group of friends had made it their mission to make Severus’s life a living hell throughout his time at Hogwarts. If he were to be honest with himself, he was ashamed to admit that he was to Harry what James was to him all those years ago: a bully. He flashed back to all the times he had taken his anger out on the poor Gryffindor, who had not done anything wrong, and when he did step out of line, Severus had punished him more severely than was necessary. He recalled all of the times when Harry had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, yet the boy was blamed for whatever mess he had found himself in. Severus had found that it was easier to denounce Potter than to actually hear him out and learn his side of the story. 

He watched the boy intently, noting how even in sleep the young teen’s breathing pattern was slightly sporadic. How could he have been so blind? Severus recalled his vow that he had made to protect Potter, and felt a wave of guilt wash over him. _Lily would be so disappointed._ The five words ran through his mind like a broken record. He had failed the ginger too many times. From losing her friendship in his fifth year due to an insult that he immediately regretted, to joining the Death Eaters, Severus was certain that his ex-best friend would be absolutely dismayed at the sight of him. Truth be told, he himself was disgusted at the man he saw in the mirror. 

The Hospital Wing was silent, save for the soft, rhythmic breathing of the young Gryffindor. Severus could feel his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest as he kept a watchful eye on the boy, being prepared to act if anything were to happen. He stayed like this for hours, not daring to leave even as the sun began to shine through the tall windows, casting a golden glow upon the sleeping boy. Madame Pomfrey quietly entered the room and made her way over to her patient. Speaking in a soft voice so as not to wake Harry, Madame Pomfrey looked towards Severus.

  
  
“Good Morning, Severus. Any change overnight?” She asked tentatively.

  
  
Turning to greet the Hogwarts Matron, Severus sighed.

  
  
“Good morning to you too, Poppy. No, he remained asleep, though I have a feeling that the dreamless sleep didn’t do much to keep the nightmares at bay.” Replied the potion’s master in a quiet tone that was rarely heard from the man. He saw that some of the worry lines had returned to Harry’s face; a sign that the potions were beginning to wear off. His eyes, while closed, were slightly tensed, which was coupled with a furrowed brow. The poor boy had started to toss and turn, as consciousness pulled at him.

  
  
Severus looked down at his student, watching as pupils rolled behind closed lids. Seconds later, the familiar green irises slowly became visible. The professor couldn’t help but lean forward in his chair as Harry slowly blinked, not quite aware of his surroundings.

  
  
“Harry?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I would like to profusely apologize for my absence. I have not abandoned this! I have had the worst writers block in my entire life and also I am in college and have been at rehearsals (I'm a musical theatre major). I will try to write more often! Thank you all for your love and support!


	3. Revealing Hidden Truths

_Previously in To Have a Home: Severus looked down at his student, watching as pupils rolled behind closed lids. Seconds later, the familiar green irises slowly became visible. The professor couldn’t help but lean forward in his chair as Harry slowly blinked, not quite aware of his surroundings._ _  
_ _  
__“Harry?”_

____________________________________________________________

Green eyes slowly roamed the room, before finally landing on the two adults. Waiting with baited breath, Severus locked eyes with the boy, attempting to be a lifeline, just as he had done the night before. The potions Professor noticed the cold stare and couldn’t help but feel the complete and utter hopelessness that radiated from the Gryffindor. The lack of life within the gaze was a painful reminder for the man, bringing up memories from thirteen years prior that he had tried so hard to suppress; the memory of finding his childhood best friend on the ground, with open eyes that stared without seeing. 

It was far from the usual boisterous and foolhardy attitude that usually came from the teen, and It sent a shiver down his spine all the while bringing an entirely new wave of guilt crashing down upon him. The sight before him disturbed him more than he would ever care to admit, though it was the words that left Harry’s mouth that would haunt him forever.  
  
“Why couldn’t you just let me die…?”   
  
The boy spoke in a hoarse whisper, so soft that Severus had to strain to hear it. Those seven words, coupled with the lack of emotion behind them, caught the Slytherin off guard. He could handle anger, he could handle sadness and tears. Merlin knows how many times he has sat in his office with one of his distressed students. It was the tone of voice that was completely devoid of anything that resembled the boy he thought he knew that would be etched into his memory. He motioned for Poppy to give them some privacy, as he was sure that Harry did not want an audience at the moment. Feeling his throat constrict with emotion, Severus leaned in close, resisting the urge to lay a comforting hand on Harry’s arm.   
  
“Harry,” He started, intentionally using the boy’s first name, “I know things may seem bleak right now, but please… Hear me out. I know what it is like to feel alone, to feel like there is nowhere to turn and that the whole world is against you, but you are very much loved.” The potions master whispered.   
  


Severus slowly placed his hand on Harry’s arm, and was not surprised to feel the immediate flinch under his touch. It was an all too familiar feeling; one that he himself had felt constantly throughout his childhood. He saw himself at five years old, cowering underneath the kitchen table in order to escape the wrath of his father after exhibiting some accidental magic for the first time. He saw himself at eight years old, stepping in between his father’s hand and his mother’s face, to try and protect her from yet another blow. He saw himself at eleven, feeling complete and utter relief as he boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time, alongside his best friend Lily Evans, knowing he would have a reprieve from the abuse, even if it was just for a little while.   
  
The death of his mother had hit Severus harder than he let on. He had put up a mask, both physically and emotionally, making sure to hide the amount of pain that he truly felt. His emotions weighed him down like an anchor on a daily basis, constantly threatening to pull him under and drown him in a pit of despair. With his father’s alcoholism, it had been him and his mother against the world for as long as he could remember. When she died, Severus felt as if a piece of him died as well. Losing Lily on that fateful night in 1981 tore another piece of his already fractured heart out and destroyed it, and now, Severus didn’t know how much of his heart and soul were left.

Bringing himself out of his memories, Severus looked down at his student, the boy who had survived so much for so long, only to beg for the sweet embrace of death by his own hand as his world crumbled around him, leaving him alone in the aftermath. The Gryffindor had been let down too many times by the people he had considered to be family. Snape knew it was only a matter of time before the boy snapped, however, he never imagined that he would be the one to pick up the pieces.   
  
For the past 13 years, Snape had played a passive role in protecting Harry, having made a vow to Lily prior to her demise that he would do everything in his power to keep her child safe, should she fall at the hands of the Dark Lord. The Professor initially felt nothing but sheer hatred for Harry, only seeing him as the son of his childhood bully. However, throughout the years, Harry had unknowingly begun to chip away at the walls that Severus had built around himself as the man slowly started to view Harry as not only James’ son, but Lily’s as well.   
  
When he received no response from the teen, Severus tried once more to reach out.   
  
“Harry, you have overcome so many obstacles. You mean so much to a lot of people, and although I haven’t said so in the past… You mean so much to me.” 

Severus paused, surprised at his own admission. He had never thought about it before, but yes, the reckless, impulsive Gryffindor before him had changed him. His usually cynical attitude towards the world around him had been changed to a hopeful outlook on life, after having bore witness to the many triumphs of this young boy throughout the years. Granted, many of the situations the young Potter found himself in could have been avoided in the first place, it astounded Severus that with ‘sheer dumb luck’ - as Minerva had accurately described it as so long ago - the boy had pulled through and saved not only his own life, but the lives of those around him. 

“You don’t care. No one does. You think you know how I feel but you don’t.” The boy said in his monotonous tone.   
  
_At least he’s talking…_ He thought, seeing this as progress.  
  
“You’re right.” He paused. “I don’t know how you feel. But you are incorrect in the assumption that I do not care about you, Harry. Despite the fact that I have not actively shown it in the past, I truly do care about your wellbeing and safety.”  
  
Not even a millisecond after the last three words left his mouth, Harry looked up at his Professor with pure unadulterated anger in his eyes. With fists clenched so hard that his knuckles turned white, the teen was nearly shaking from the fury that had been building up inside him. He threw off the blanket that covered him and stood up on unsteady legs.  
  
“My wellbeing and safety?” He repeated in an incredulous voice. “I asked - no… I _begged_ the headmaster at the end of first year to let me stay at Hogwarts instead of returning to Surrey. He refused, giving me some bullshit excuse about ‘blood wards’, telling me that the magic of my mother’s love best protected me under my Aunt’s roof, because in the words of the dear old Headmaster, ‘A mother’s love is one of the most powerful types of magic there is. The blood connection that you share with your Aunt can protect you from any harm that may come.” Harry scoffed. 

“Let me ask you something, Professor. How can blood wards protect me from the dangers of the outside world when it can’t even protect me from the dangers within the walls of Number Four Privet Drive? There is absolutely  _ no love _ for me at the  _ Dursley's _ ,” He spat out the name, his tone of voice dripping with venom. “Unless you count  _ corporal punishment  _ as a sign of love.” He added sarcastically.

“And now, you have the  _ audacity  _ to say that you care about my wellbeing and safety? Dumbledore knew what went on in that house. He knew what kind of person Petunia was. How  _ dare _ you? After everything that has happened, you think you can claim that you care about me and that everything will be okay? I don’t think so. You and Dumbledore can take your blood ward bullshit and go fuck yourselves” Harry shouted. 

His voice had grown louder throughout his speech, which had of course attracted the attention of Madame Pomfrey. She rushed into the room and her eyes widened at the scene before her. Severus was standing as still has a statue, obviously trying to remain calm for Harry’s sake, though it was clear that he was seething at the new revelations that came to light during Harry’s tirade. The head of Slytherin decided to disregard the blatant disrespect and use of expletives, seeing as it would do no good to correct the irate teen. Harry, who was out of bed, despite the medical report stating that he required strict bedrest, gave a sneer that took the Slytherin by surprise. 

Suddenly, with his wand and invisibility cloak in hand, having grabbed them from his nearby trunk, Harry fled the Hospital Wing, ignoring the protests of both adults. He watched as Harry slammed the door with such force, it shook the surrounding shelves, and without another word, Severus snapped out of his state of shock and ran after the boy. A fresh wave of panic came over him, as the Boy Who Lived was now roaming the castle while emotionally unstable,  _ and suicidal,  _ his mind supplied. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to come up with a plan in order to keep Harry from endangering either himself or any other occupants of the school. 

The next hour and a half for the Potions Master was spent frantically searching the castle for the boy who had put more years on his life than any Death Eater meeting he had attended. After questioning the Fat Lady and checking the Gryffindor Common Room and dorms, Severus leaned against a wall in order to catch his breath. While the man was not old, he was not as young as he used to be. Normally, he would never indulge in a Cat and Mouse chase with a Gryffindor, but the current situation was a matter between life and death. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he remembered something that Minerva had told him before he began teaching at the school.  _ Hogwarts has wards in place that will set off a signal, should one of its occupants be in danger. The alarm will be raised if a student or faculty member is injured or is in mortal danger.  _

Severus closed his eyes and forced himself to remain calm. No alarms had been raised.  _ Yet… _ His subconscious added. He breathed heavily for a moment, hoping that the teen just needed some time alone in a private area to collect his thoughts, and not a place to end it all. Severus knew that it was only a matter of time before the rest of the faculty arrived, as it was August 31st. Unsurprisingly, Severus was not looking forward to the start of term, having once again been denied the Defense Against the Dark Arts position that he had been after for many years. He dreaded his potions lessons with Gryffindor and Slytherin, fully anticipating yet another year where Neville Longbottom would horrendously botch his basic potions and end up in the Hospital Wing once again. 

Severus made his way down one of the many long hallways, pausing momentarily to peer into nearby rooms. As he was about to round the corner to continue his search, the sound of a pair of voices made him pause in his tracks. Of the two voices, only one was familiar to Severus, and it belonged to a man he once trusted with his life. With the voices coming closer, he put up a mask to prevent any questions that may have come as a result of his disheveled appearance. Taking a steadying breath, he turned the corner and came face to face with the Headmaster.  
  
“Ah, Severus! It’s so good to see you. I trust you are ready for another year at Hogwarts.” Albus greeted, the twinkle in his eye as obnoxious as it has always been.  
  
He had so much he wanted to say to the older man. The Potions Master wanted to yell and scream; wanted to make it known just how much damage he had inflicted upon The Boy Who Lived. However, he bit his tongue, as this was not the time nor the place for that conversation. Severus looked behind the Headmaster, and standing in the middle of the hallway was a woman that he did not recognize. Short and stout, with features similar to a toad that Severus would use in his potion making, the woman stared the Slytherin down with her beady eyes.   
  
“ _Hem Hem_ ,” the woman prompted in her sickly sweet, high pitched voice, causing Dumbledore to nod.  
  
“Severus, I’d like you to meet our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Dolores Jane Umbridge.”  
  
And at that moment, as if the woman’s name was a trigger, the castle’s warning signals went off. Harry was in danger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I know I said this at the end of the last chapter, but I am so incredibly sorry for my absence! Quarantine has been rough for me in a lot of ways, and my motivation went right out the window. I am going to try to get better at updating more often, but I have had serious writers block for months. Thanks to all of you who have been patiently waiting for an update! I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy during these uncertain times!


	4. The Weight Of The World

**Chapter 4 - The Weight of the World**

_ Previously in To Have A Home: “Hem Hem,” the woman prompted in her sickly sweet, high pitched voice, causing Dumbledore to nod. “Severus, I’d like you to meet our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Dolores Jane Umbridge.” And at that moment, as if the woman’s name was a trigger, the castle’s warning signals went off. Harry was in danger.  _

____________________________________________________________

It took all of Severus’s strength and restraint to not run in the opposite direction in order to continue his search for Harry. A peculiar expression crossed the headmaster’s face before he turned to his newest employee.  
  
“Dolores, I believe this concludes your tour of the school. You may return to the ministry and I shall be in contact before the students arrive tomorrow.” Dumbledore informed her. He spoke in a strained tone that Severus had only heard once before in all of his years that he had known the older man.

  
It looked as if Umbridge was about to argue, but with an insistent look from Albus, she bit her tongue and apparated back to her office at the ministry. As soon as she left, Albus wasted no time in turning to Severus.  
  
“Severus, what in Merlin’s name is going on?” He asked in a somewhat angry tone. “Would you care to tell me why the school’s alarm is going off?” He asked frantically, hoping that none of his faculty were injured or worse. It didn’t cross his mind that a student, especially Harry Potter, would be the one in need of assistance, as they usually arrived on September 1st, and not a day sooner.   
  
Severus took a deep breath and exercised his carefully practiced poker face, mastered after years of being Dumbledore’s spy.   
  
“I do not know, Headmaster. I am going to find out, and will send you a message if your presence is required. I am fully capable of handling this situation.” He stated, holding back a sneer.  
  
Albus stared at Severus with narrowed eyes for several moments before nodding.  
  
“Alright, Severus. Please keep me informed.” He sighed before starting to walk away, only to turn back for a moment and look Severus in the eyes. “And how many times do I have to tell you, Severus, please call me Albus.” He stated, the twinkle in his eyes having returned in full force. With those parting words, Dumbledore turned and walked in the direction of his office. The moment he was alone, Severus ran down the halls, using the “Point Me” spell to aid himself in finding the runaway Gryffindor.

Another half hour of searching yielded no results, which caused additional panic to rise within the Slytherin. Suddenly, the man stopped in his tracks, an idea dawning on him as memories from long ago flooded his mind, pulling him into a flashback.

_ Fourteen year old Severus Snape stalked slowly down the abandoned corridor, his scrawny shoulders slumped as if he had the weight of the world upon them. The only thing tethering him to his miniscule amount of sanity and happiness had been taken from him mere hours ago. During breakfast that morning, an official owl from St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries had informed Severus of his mother’s passing. In an instant, the young Snape’s world had come crashing down around him.  _

_ He waited until midnight to sneak out of his dorm, not that any of his roommates would even sense the lack of his presence during the day. With his wand in hand, he exited the Slytherin common room and silently ventured up to the Astronomy Tower. The beauty of the clear night sky, with stars sprinkled throughout went unnoticed by the teen as he stepped up on the ledge of the large window. He took a moment to survey the landscape of what he considered his true home.  _

_ Severus knew that should he return to Spinners End at the conclusion of the school year, he would not be welcomed back with open arms, as he usually would be when his mother greeted him at King’s Cross Station. With his mother now gone from this mortal plane, there was no buffer between him and his father’s wrath. In his mind, he felt he had no other choice than to follow his mother into the afterlife. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and was about to jump, when a hand grasped the back of his robes and yanked him back, causing him to fall to the floor. _

_ He was about to unleash his temper on the other witch or wizard when he opened his eyes and found a pair of familiar green eyes staring back at him. Severus laid there, paralyzed, as if the witch before him held the same power as Medusa. A few moments later, the fiery ginger broke the deafening silence, speaking in a voice as soft as silk, and as calming as the scent of the lavender flowers they used to run through as children. _

_ “You are loved, Severus.” She started, kneeling down next to the boy she considered her other half. “Even if your mother is not physically here, her love for you lives on. My love for you lives on.” Lily assured. “You’re okay. I’m here, and I always will be. You aren’t alone, Sev.” _

_ Severus snapped out of his trance and took a stuttering breath as Lily’s words echoed in his mind. He hadn’t even considered the people he’d leave behind, should he have completed his task. Lily Evans was the only person, other than his mother, to show him true love and compassion. He mentally chastised himself for being so selfish, knowing that should he have died, the pain he would have inflicted upon his best friend would be irreparable.  _

_ His eyes grew precariously moist, which startled Severus as he thought he had put up a mask and built a wall that hid his true emotions. He couldn’t help himself as he grabbed onto Lily, tears now flowing freely down his face as he hugged her, silently thanking her for saving him from himself...  _

Severus was suddenly thrust back into the present, surprised to find himself at the entrance to the Astronomy Tower. He quietly entered the small room, and as he expected, found the young Potter standing on the ledge, just as Severus himself had done so many years ago. He was morbidly fascinated by the peaceful, resigned expression on the boy’s face as he prepared to jump.However, wasting no time, the Potions Master rushed forward and grasped the teen’s shirt, before pulling him back to safety.

Snape noticed the cuts on his student’s arms, bleeding freely and dripping on the old wooden floor. The cuts were precise, too neat to have been done by an average blade.  _ A cutting charm… _ his mind supplied. The young, damaged teen scrambled to his feet, his face screwed up with pure, unadulterated anger and despair. Harry’s voice shook as he stared at the man who had once again thwarted his plans to leave this world.

“Just let me fucking die, Snape!” He pleaded. “I… I can’t do it anymore… I can’t...” He started, but paused as his voice broke and caught in his throat. Severus took this as his cue and walked forward, enveloping the trembling Gryffindor in his arms. He held the boy, ignoring the growing wetness on his shoulder. 

Feeling Harry’s knees start to buckle, the two wizards collapsed to the floor, still in a tight embrace. Severus whispered assurances in the teen’s ear while said teen sobbed into his Professor’s robes. 

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m-” the boy whispered like a broken record, to which Severus shook his head and promptly shushed the child.   
  
“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. It is I who should be apologizing to you.” Harry went still in his arms, and Severus continued. 

“Harry, you have endured so much pain in your short life. You have every right to be angry. Your feelings are valid and you should not be ashamed to show your emotions.” Severus informed.  _ Merlin, I’m a hypocrite,  _ The man thought. And it was true; it had been drilled into Severus’ head that he should never show his emotions, and that crying was a sign of weakness. It was a mantra that was constantly beaten into him by Tobias after his mother died, and it was the same mantra that he carried with him to this day. 

The boy in his arms was quiet, causing Severus to look down. His eyes immediately went to Harry’s arms, which were still bleeding. Severus instinctively tore off part of his robe and used the fabric to apply pressure to the fresh wounds, eliciting a low groan from Harry. 

“I know, I know.” Severus placated softly as he pressed down on the boy’s arms, trying to staunch the bleeding from the gashes. After tying the makeshift tourniquets tightly around the cuts, the man stood up with Harry lying limp in his arms. It was slightly disconcerting to Severus, as he found himself in this position for a second time within twenty four hours. Nevertheless, after making sure he had a secure hold on the boy, the Slytherin began his trek back to the hospital wing. 

Severus was not surprised to find Poppy waiting for him as he entered the room. Once again, Harry was deposited onto the bed before Madame Pomfrey descended upon him like a mother hen. Learning from his earlier mistakes, Severus went to a nearby shelf, and retrieved a potion that he should have administered in the first place. He handed the bottle to Poppy, who read the label and raised an eyebrow at the man.

“Extra Strength Dreamless Sleep potion. With it, he will not wake until at least tomorrow evening, giving his body time to recover.” He informed the Hogwarts Matron. She nodded before administering the potion, watching as Harry drifted into unconsciousness. Poppy made quick work of healing the long gashes that marred the teen’s arms, and placed the blanket gently on top of the sleeping form of the nearly emaciated boy.

Severus made sure to stow away Harry’s wand, along with his invisibility cloak and trunk, so as not to have a repeat performance of the recent events. He watched the boy for a few moments, transfixed on the steady rise and fall of the Gryffindor’s chest. Knowing that Harry was settled for now, Severus now had another crucial matter to attend to. He nodded to Poppy, a silent  _ thank you _ evident in his eyes. With a swish of his robes, he exited the hospital wing and started towards the headmaster’s office, his anger building with each step. 

  
Dumbledore had a  _ lot _ of explaining to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I was able to get this chapter out a bit quicker than usual! I'd like to thank Acacia (AcaciaRaff96) for proofreading this chapter! She is writing an amazing HP fic called The Freak Who Lived. Go check it out if you can and show her some love! I hope everyone is staying healthy and safe!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys liked the first chapter! I've been having some really bad writers block lately and am finally trying to get back into the swing of things! Let me know what you think!


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